


All I Have to Lose

by cracklesnaple



Series: the fall of a hero [9]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Antarctic Empire babyyyyy, BAMF TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Battle Plans, Blood and Injury, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Family Dynamics, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Magic, Minecraft Realism, Minor panic attacks, Panic Attacks, Pre-Battle, Realistic Minecraft, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), bit of a filler chapter sorry guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28828338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cracklesnaple/pseuds/cracklesnaple
Summary: After a year of traveling, Tommy finally returns to L'Manburg and his family. Unfortunately, he doesn't have any time to relax as they prepare to confront Dream for the last time.(part of a series)
Relationships: Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, everything is platonic - Relationship, shippers be gone - Relationship
Series: the fall of a hero [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036035
Comments: 25
Kudos: 283





	All I Have to Lose

**Author's Note:**

> first off: this is all roleplay, all the cc's are acting and this fic is based off of their character's portrayal, not the real people. As always, there will be absolutely no shipping because....nasty. 
> 
> second: sorry this took so long to come out (all things considered) but I was hit with a bad bout of writers block that stopped me from writing for about a week. I'm still not super super happy with this chapter, but it's necessary for the next/last part of this story. 
> 
> third: [playlist for the fic](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4zcWofQLfmQDQ2lYklN8RU?si=PSHQeRSVSz67Q6wHkeO49Q)
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!!

Dream came to on a rotten throne, body still aching with the toll of his respawn. His mask was pressed up against his face uncomfortably, the porcelain digging marks into his skin. A dark growl filled the room, ricocheting off stone walls. Dream’s legs were wobbly when he first stood up, eyes locking onto an arrow on the ground.

The metal on the tip was chipped and bent from the force it hit his skull with. Blood soaked the wood of the arrow and the stone beneath it and Dream could feel the sticky residue of his blood matting his hair. He ripped off the mask fitted to his face, the porcelain clattered against the stone floor.

Rage burned through him. He had been so close. So close to getting what he wanted, to getting that nuisance of a child off of his lands for good. All his careful planning and weeks spent making sure everything went right, just for the brat to disappear off the face of the world and his family’s mouth’s locked shut. Dream knew the other members of Tommy’s family knew where he was, or else they’d be panicked out of their minds like the rest of his pathetic friends.

“Fuck!” Blood burst from his knuckles after they collided with the dense stone of the throne. Dream shook off the pain, anger quickly overtaking the throbbing of his hand. He didn’t know how long his respawn had taken, how much of a headstart Tommy had on him, but that wasn’t what he was worried about.

He needed to know what that child was up to, why he was suddenly heading back to L’Manburg after two years of absolute silence. Tommy had always been the strongest of the little band of children playing heroes, even if those around him saw otherwise. Dream knew Tommy was the one person everyone would always listen to in the face of adversity, that he could twist words and emotions almost better than Dream himself could. Whether Tommy knew it or not, he was Dream’s only real threat in his plan to get rid of L’Manburg once and for all.

If their battles and war were chess, Dream might control the white side, able to make his moves first before his enemies, but Tommy was in control of black. Equally as dangerous and just as capable of surprise attacks. 

When they met again, there’d be hell to pay for killing him.

A boy sat on the edge of a cobblestone tower, observing the haze of a town in the distance. One leg dangled over the edge and the other was propped against the unforgiving stone, an imposing drop to the ground if they made one wrong move. The boy stayed still. There was a gleaming purple sword settled into a holster on his side and a leather bag strapped to his back, obviously full. This high, the only noises that could be heard were the occasional caw of a wayward bird and the white noise of the wind. To him, it was soothing.

Soon, though, another sound made itself known to the boy. This one was rhythmic and manmade. The boy held himself stiff, a hand crept towards the sword on his belt and blood rushed through his veins putting his body in fight or flight mode. Months and years of constant paranoia had trained his body to be ready for a fight at any time. Then, as suddenly as it began, the sound quieted, only to be replaced with footsteps.

"You're not safe here," the voice stated and the boy would recognize that timbre anywhere, having grown accustomed to it being the only other voice he'd hear for months other than his own.

The boy swung around, legs now dusting the floor of the tower, and grinned at the person in front of him. Mismatched eyes stared back at him, both equally panicked and overjoyed. A crown sat atop black and white split hair, looking more dented and rusted than he remembered. Purple particles surrounded the boy with an otherworldly aura. The white freckles on the void-black side of the other’s face was a welcome sight for the boy, a reminder he still had friends in this unforgiving world.

"Ranboob!"

The other boy let out a dramatic groan, but he could tell it was more out of amusement than actual annoyance. There was fatigue on his face that he had never seen before and the knowledge that he contributed to a lot of that stress weighed heavily on his shoulders.

“You know that’s not my name, Tommy,” Ranboo tried to sound strict but the effect is lost by the sheer relief that coats his words.

“Let me have my fun, big man!” Tommy cried, his voice lower than it normally would be but he was currently behind enemy lines so to speak and couldn’t afford getting found so soon. “We haven’t seen each other in years!”

“Last time I checked, that wasn’t my fault.” Ranboo had always been good at that deadpanned, monotone way of speaking but it seemed he had perfected his craft while Tommy was away. The slight produced a laugh from Tommy’s chest and he swung his arms around his friend’s shoulders, pulling him close.

A sigh settled in Tommy’s throat when Ranboo’s arms settled around him. In the weeks, months almost, that Tommy had been traveling back to L’Manburg - after the disastrous meeting with Dream that ended up proving to be fruitful - the boy had forgotten what it felt like to be held. To have the presence of another person close to you was something that Tommy had taken for granted during the days before his exile. Tommy’s eyes slipped closed as he pressed tight to his best friend and, for a few moments, he could pretend that his life wasn’t in danger, that he wasn’t about to go to war _again_.

Tears filled his eyes, his vision going glassy but Tommy blinked them away, never one for showing emotion. He patted Ranboo on the back once before stepping away. Tommy swore that his friend’s eyes were glossy as well but he’d never mention it - well, he would, he just didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot so soon.

“Glad to see you're still alive and kicking.” Ranboo nodded at his words, a smile on half and half lips. “Is my family here?”

Ranboo shook his head but motioned for Tommy to follow him as he climbed down the ladders of the tower. Tommy was handed an invisibility potion once they reached the bottom of the tower and Tommy downed it instantly. Getting into the nation in the middle of the day unseen was hard enough once, he’d be pushing his luck to do it again. The metallic taste of gold coated his tongue as tingles ran up and down his nerves.

“They want to meet you at Techno’s place,” Ranboo informs them as the potion takes effect, his skin and armor fading until there’s air in place of him. “Said they had supplies, or something.”

The pair crept through the quiet roads of L’Manburg, both of their steps were kept light and soundless. Soon, they were on the edges of the nation and the lake stood between them and his brother’s base. Ranboo led him to a boat already prepared and ready that he must’ve gotten together before meeting with Tommy and he drops in thankful. The ride was silent, neither one willing to speak in fear of someone overhearing and suspecting something.

The white covered trees of the tundra were a welcome sight to Tommy even though the boy had never been a big fan of the cold. After being stuck in the End with its uncomfortable stillness and the simmering heat of the rotting kingdom, the cold would be a nice change. His invisibility potion wore off as they settled on the grass once again.

Tommy shivered as the frigid air passed through his thin clothes still on loan from Jordan. Warm, earthy tones were definitely out of place in the endless sea of white, but Tommy didn’t have a way to get anything else after he left the village, didn’t have time to stop at a tailor’s while Dream was chasing him.

Smoke puffed in the distance and joy filled Tommy’s heart. Before he ran away Tommy thought his family didn’t care for him anymore, that they had moved on without him. Those thoughts had left him heartbroken but he had hid it, hadn’t confronted Wilbur or Technoblade or Phil because he was scared that his thoughts would be confirmed. Now, something settles inside of him with the knowledge that they do care about him, that they were willing to side with him and wait for him.

Techno had done a little remodeling since Tommy had last been to his home. The cottage was now bigger and looked like it could house a few extra rooms, Carl’s pen had also expanded and there were a couple more horses milling around him. Techno’s turtle farm was farther off but hadn’t changed as much as everything else.

Ranboo knocked against the wood door and they both waited, Tommy’s feet shuffling in anticipation. Heavy footsteps sounded from inside the building and then the door was hefted open and there his brother stood, looking like every bit of the pompous ass he was.

“Guess who!” Tommy cried. Technoblade’s hair was longer, his braid almost reaching the middle of his back now, but, other than that, his brother hadn’t changed that much. He still wore the Antarctic Empire getup and his elongated ears still dangled with gold. Before he knew what was happening, Tommy was pulled into a crushing hug by the piglin hybrid. Technoblade smelled like fireplace smoke, the crisp air of the forest, and the metallic scent of blood that always clung to the other champion. He clung tight to his brother, hands gripped the fur that lines his cloak and let himself drown in the sensation.

Technoblade pulled away too soon for his liking, but Tommy would never admit that out loud. Him and Ranboo are ushered into the warm cottage, fireplace blazing like always. The sight of his father stooped over the couch, hands twisting together, made Tommy’s heart skip a beat. Phil was quick to stand up and wrap him in a hug as well. While Technoblade smells of battle because of his mark, Phil smelt the wind and the calming smell of rain and Tommy was eager to drink it in, to commit it to memory because he wasn’t sure if this was the last time he’d be able to hug his family.

“It’s good to have you back, kiddo,” Phil whispered into his hair. It was like, with just those couple words, all of Tommy’s fears had faded away and he was left with only the feeling of being loved. It wouldn’t last though, it never did. Insecurities will rise again and plague his thoughts, but he’d deal with it as he always did.

“Good to fucking be back.” Phil clapped him on the back in such a stereotypical dad manner that Tommy actually laughed, waving again the glances he got for it. “So,” Tommy threw himself onto the couch where Phil had been sitting, sinking into the cushions with a sigh. He’d never take simple furniture for granted again. “Ranboo says you guys have shit?”

Tommy saw Technoblade’s smirk and, if previous wars and preparation were any give away, he was betting that they’d have a lot of whatever Techno decided to obsess over.

“If we’re gonna beat Dream,” his brother spoke, his tone smug, “Then we need to be prepared. Luckily Ranboo over here,” Techno gestured to the enderman hybrid who was still awkwardly standing near the door, arms crossed in front of him, “informed us that you were making your way home because apparently it’s too hard to contact your family as well.”

“Hey, asshole!” Tommy held his hands out in front of him at the last line, obviously directed at him. “To be fair I was in a hurry! And I had just killed Dream so give me a break, bitch!”

Techno raised an eyebrow at his words and Tommy shrugged his shoulders sheepishly, suddenly regretting his outburst. “You’ll tell us everything about where you’ve been, but first,” he started and led the small group outside to a barren looking mountainside. Tommy shivered in the cold, his body had finally gotten used to the warmth from the fire. “We need to talk business.” With those words, Tommy watched his brother press a camouflage button and the ground beneath his feet started to shake.

“What the fuck!” Tommy stumbled as the earth shook and grabbed onto Ranboo to try and steady himself. The mountain in front of them broke away and opened up to a long room. The sight left an uncomfortable taste in his mouth, painful memories of his past and betrayals trying to push their way to the surface. Twisted skulls hung from the walls and even though Tommy didn’t know what Techno was doing with them, anxiety swirled to life inside of him. Chests lined the walls of the room and, at the very end, there were two armor stands holding gleaming purple armor. Netherite.

“Welcome home, Theseus!”

Tommy stood, mouth agape, for what felt like minutes before Ranboo nudged him in alongside him and Technoblade. “When did you get all this?” He asked the hybrid as he rummaged around the chests. There were enough potions and arrows and food to last an army for months, let alone four people, but it was exactly what they needed if they wanted to take down Dream.

“I haven’t slept in weeks,” Technoblade replied in his normal monotone voice so Tommy couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. He shot a look at the piglin who just shrugged but didn’t confirm or deny the statement. The champion pushed his concern to the side - there was nothing he could do about it anyways, Techno wouldn’t listen to anyone after he set his mind to something.

They grabbed as much as they could carry at the moment to have enough on hand in case anything went awry before planned. By the time they were exiting the secret room, the mountain closing up behind them, Tommy’s bag was filled with potions and all different kinds of arrows and his arms were wrapped around countless bottles of potions. His brother sure was busy while he was traveling.

Once they returned back to the house, Ranboo immediately shuffled off to the second floor and soft mrrps and the static sounds of enderman speech could be heard, Techno handed Tommy a pile of clothes that he gratefully changed into. The soft earthy tones of Jordan’s village were replaced by the white and pale blue colors of the Antarctic Empire. Tommy hadn’t thought about Technoblade’s and Phil’s empire for a long time, not since his brother first told him about how he became the champion of the Blood God.

He pulled the soft cotton closer to his body, reveling in the warmth it brought about, while he joined his brother and father in the living room. There were papers and materials strewn out on the table in the middle of the room and both of the older men were hunched over it, speaking in hushed tones.

“Where’s Ghostbur?” Tommy questioned, just now realizing he hadn’t seen his brother’s ghost since he arrived at the cottage. There were bad memories with his other brother, always would be, but he knew that Ghostbur was not necessarily the man that Wilbur had turned into when they were exiled and forced into Pogtopia. Besides, he missed the unwavering optimism the ghost seemed to possess in spades.

“We’re not sure,” Phil replied absentmindedly, his focus still on the papers below him. “Probably in L’Manburg. He has a habit of leaving without telling anyone so it’s hard to keep track.” The words stirred something inside Tommy, thoughts of him and Wilbur being left alone, of learning how to live without their father figure, but Tommy forced those memories away. Now was not the time for infighting. If they survived this battle with Dream there would be time to confront his family about their less than stellar familial roles.

“Alright,” Tommy said before making his way to the table, intent on seeing whatever it was that had the both of them so focused. “So what are we working on?” The papers were filled with scrawled text, most of it illegible and crossed out but, from what Tommy could read, they looked like plans. Dozens of plans that Phil and Technoblade have no doubt been creating since Tommy was found half-dead outside his brother’s cottage.

“We need a fool-tight plan if we want to kill Dream,” Technoblade shared, hands flicking through all the different plans. He spread his hands out and turned to Tommy. “This is all we know about him and the ones who will no doubt be fighting with him.”

Tommy was handed a piece of paper with names and short descriptions scribbled onto it. “Sapnap, George, Punz, Ponk, Bad and Skeppy,” He read off the list, dreading each of the names. “You don’t think anyone else is going to help him?”

Technoblade shook his head, pink hair escaping his loose bun at the movement. “Everyone else is either with L’Manburg or neutral. We were considering Sam and Ant since they made a sort of pact with Bad but neither of them have been involved in any of the wars. Plus,” he added, “Sam offered to help us once L’Manburg learned you were missing.”

Tommy’s head shot up at that. From what he knew of Sam - one of the newest members to stumble into Dream’s territory - the man was extremely kind and one of the most caring people Tommy had ever met. But, even with that, Sam had always been partial to the Dream Team, he even had separate rooms for the three of them in his base. It was weird that he would offer his help to the other side.

“Why would he do that?” Tommy asked the other two.

“We’re not sure, but we told him we didn’t need his help,” his brother answered. “We don’t need any spies helping Dream out.” Tommy nodded in agreement, if Dream caught wind of any of their plans it would be detrimental and would likely result in Tommy’s death. That thought alone caused his heart to beat faster, his hands to shake and fear squeezed his lungs. He wanted Dream gone. He didn’t want to have to live in this constant state of paranoia anymore.

_“It’s alright, my dear,”_ Clara soothed from his mind, words falling like a waterfall and he closed his eyes, willing his breath to slow. _“I will be with you every step of the way and so will your family. You are owed the justice you seek.”_

The words weren’t unfamiliar, Clara had spoken to him through many panic attacks while he was running for Dream, but they never lost their effectiveness. Tommy was glad for the reassurances, the reminders that there were people who cared for him and were willing to fight on his behalf. The panic subsided and the familiar bone-deep weariness was left in its place. He set the paper back down onto the table.

A hand settled on his shoulder and he glanced up to see Phil looking at him, mouth down-turned in concern. Tommy nodded, grateful for the grounding but he turned his sights back onto planning. “We won’t have much time,” His words came out easier this time. “If Dream isn’t back yet, he’s bound to be back soon so we’re working on a time limit. Not to mention he’s gonna be more than pissed with me.”

“Speaking of that,” Technoblade turned back to Tommy, his stare piercing. “You never told us what happened when you ran into Dream. Ranboo said you barely told him anything as well.”

Tommy laughed uneasily, forcing his eyes to stay open. The images of that rotting throne room, of Dream’s Creator-forsaken mask and the amount of tension in the air, had made a home behind his eyelids. He had gotten little sleep over the past few weeks, between running for his life - literally - and the nightmares of Dream’s potential retaliation keeping him up.

“I shot him,” Tommy told them and, despite his left-over terror of the moment, there was pride in his voice. Pride, because he, Tommy Innit - constantly berated for being too much of a liability, of acting too much like a child, of being _useless_ \- took down Dream with one shot. And it was easy. Sure, it was mainly easy because Dream let his guard down, didn’t view him as a threat, but Tommy counted that as a win all the same.

“He let his guard down,” he continued. “He thought he had me cornered, thought that he won and he turned around. So I shot him. I was close enough that it hit deep, it killed him instantly.” Tommy didn’t mention that his bow was stronger than most, that most mortals would never be able to get their hands on a weapon as strong as his, even if they were god-blessed like Dream was. Oh, that reminded him.

“Onto more important matters than how I killed Dream,” Tommy splayed his hands across the sheets lining the wooden table and made sure he had Phil and Technoblade’s attention. “There’s a reason Dream is as powerful as he is and it’s not just because he’s good at pvp. He’s an Admin first and foremost,” at their confused looks - which was a bit surprising to Tommy since both men had traveled the world and should have encountered Admins before - he added, “Admin’s are the closest things to gods that mortals can be. They have a few powers. Well, more than a few, really.

“Admins can alter reality, make it easier to get supplies and lessen damage. They usually have strength boosts to them, too, which is fucking fantastic if you ask me. But the best part is that they’re able to alter their territory. It’s how they keep track of who is in their servers or not. Now, these all come with limits. Dream can’t just decide he doesn’t like someone and wipe them off the face of the world.”

Phil interjected with a quiet “Thank goodness for that,” and Tommy couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“He’s also not invincible, it’s only hard to land some hits. It doesn’t make it any better that he’s damn good with an axe. Let’s just think of him like an annoying mosquito. One that’s fucking huge and terrifying and hungry for blood, but capable of being squashed.”

“How do you know all this?” Phil leaned forward. Tommy could see the apprehension in both their faces and knew it was reflected in his own.

“Oh, I’m not down yet, Dadza,” Tommy replied bitterly. “As well as all of that bullshit, Dream also happens to be god-blessed.” He raised his hand when Phil opened his mouth, a question in his eyes. “It means we have to not only deal with a man extremely talented at pvp who happens to be an Admin, we also have to add in to the fact that he was blessed by the god of luck, meaning we’re at more of a disadvantage than we already were.”

_“I don’t normally say this,”_ Clara’s voice came through their bond again, obviously paying attention to the conversation at hand. _“But my sister is horrible at reading people.”_

Tommy snorted at his goddess’ words, drawing questioning looks from his family but he waved them away. “He’s not unbeatable and he only has one life left so he’s vulnerable.”

Techno interrupted him, saying, “But you and Phil also only have one life.”

“Yet another godforsaken wrench in the plan, ain’t it?”

The room was enveloped in silence for a few moments, the static of the two endermen speaking upstairs drowned out the pops from the fireplace and created a nice background noise. Ranboo hadn’t come down from the second floor yet, but Tommy wasn’t worried. From the sound of it, his friend was deep in conversation with Technoblade’s enderman, Edward. He didn’t know what the two were talking about but he knew that Ranboo would tell them if it was important.

“We’ll figure something out, don’t worry,” Philza’s soothing words sounded, their adoptive father trying to ease the weight on all their shoulders. Tommy smiled gratefully at his father, still struck by the fact that he was _home_ and had all his family around. _Well_ , Tommy thought of Ghostbur with his soft sweater and the pain that came with remembering, _not all of them_.

Tommy was hit with the sudden desire for his brother to be here. Not Technoblade or Ghostbur or the madman Wilbur had been before he died, but the brother that went on adventures with him. The brother that taught him how to trust people, how to live with love and happiness instead of the bitterness that he had known before. Tommy wanted the one member of his family who knew more about him than he knew of himself, even if his skin crawled with the memories of obsidian rooms and the pain of hunger.

“Actually,” Technoblade cut into Tommy’s thoughts, a wicked smirk curled around his sharp tusks and he knew whatever his brother was about to say would be good. “I do have a plan.”

Once the conversation with Phil and Techno had drawn to a close, Tommy headed upstairs to find Ranboo. The boy was curled up next to Edward, the enderman’s void black arms were curled up around the hybrid. It made for a cute picture, if Tommy forgot about how endermen were supposed to be extremely hostile but was all but stroking his friend’s hair.

The mob turned sharply to him when Tommy stepped into the room and he caught the briefest sight of glowing purple eyes before he stared through the floorboards. It didn’t matter how nice Edward was with Ranboo, Tommy was _not_ going to risk angering the mob.

A soft _mrrp_ sounded from across the room and Tommy glanced up carefully, making sure to not make eye contact with the enderman. He saw long limbs gesture to Ranboo a couple times before realizing the mob was telling Tommy to pick up Ranboo. Gratefully, Tommy scooped up his best friend - who barely stirred from his sleep in his arms - and whispered his thanks to the enderman, getting a staticky chirp in return. The sound was oddly comforting to Tommy but he didn’t dwell on it and focused on bringing Ranboo to an actual bed.

Ranboo’s room was right next to his - a new add-on from when Technoblade had picked him up from the snow months ago - and Tommy settled his friend onto the bed nestled into the corner of the room. The enderman hybrid groused quietly in his sleep, annoyance painting his half and half features as he was moved. Tommy had drawn a blanket over his friend’s form and was about to resign himself to another sleepless night in the in-between realm where he could talk to Clara when his arm was caught.

“Stay?” Ranboo mumbled, words still heavy with sleep and his eyes were still closed. His grip on Tommy’s sweater was weak but the boy turned around. When the hand holding his sweater pulled gently again, Tommy sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Tommy heard Ranboo sniffle as he fought off sleep. He couldn’t help but hate himself for the stab of guilt that speared through him at those words. It would be easier if no one cared about him, Tommy had done too much to people here already, had already caused enough trouble. Ranboo didn’t deserve to be left with what would be left of him if the battle with Dream goes sideways.

“Don’t worry, I’m a big man I can handle myself!” Tommy was quick to try to reassure his friend even though he knew there was nothing he could say to truly ease that fear. Ranboo was quiet, a solemn atmosphere settled between the two. “You don’t have to fight,” Tommy added into the silence. It was something he had been thinking about a lot, ever since Ranboo swore he would help Tommy after his almost-exile. He knew Ranboo wasn’t a big fan of fighting, he already had to do that too much in his own head.

“I know you don’t like fighting,” He added when Ranboo didn’t say anything. “Which is fine, relatable even.” By the Creator, Tommy wished he didn’t have to fight anymore but the only way to move on with his life would start with taking Dream down.

Staticky trills emerged from Ranboo’s throat, Tommy started, shoulder jerking back at the sudden sound. His friend sounded sad, somehow, even though Tommy was never good at understanding mob hybrids. Arms were thrown across his shoulders, his friend draping himself across his side, his grip tight.

They didn’t say anything, Tommy let himself melt into the comforting hug of his friend and Ranboo seemed content to show him support for a while. They stayed like that for a few minutes before Ranboo snuggled back into his pillows and drifted back off into sleep. Tommy moved to his bedroom - a small room with just enough space for a bed, end table, and a wardrobe, it reminded him of his room at Jordan’s house - and fell heavily onto his bed.

It was comforting to know that, even if his friend chose not to fight with him, Ranboo would do everything else to make sure they defeat Dream. Just having that little bit of support seemed monumentous to Tommy. Luckily, or by the will of his goddess, it wasn’t long before Tommy was being pulled into a quiet sleep.

The four of them, Phil, Technoblade, Tommy, and Ranboo, are crowded around the table in the main room when Ghostbur barged into the cottage. Tommy had to stop his heart from beating out of his chest as Wilbur barreled through the thick, wooden walls of Techno’s base - seemingly having practiced the whole “turning invisible” thing. As far as he knew, his brother wasn’t able to do that.

At once, Technoblade had grabbed his sword - discarded to his right - and was pointing it at the floating figure of their dead brother. He sighed sharply, the exhale whistling slightly as it passed Techno’s tusks.

Ghostbur, oblivious to the tension and panic he had caused by his dramatic entrance, waved at them enthusiastically, a bright smile playing on pale lips. “Oh! Hi everyone!” His voice was airy and painfully naive, nothing like the Ghostbur who was burdened with his memories of his life. “Tommy!”

The yell of his name was the only warning Tommy had before he had an armful of strangely corporeal ghost. Strangely, the smell of gunpowder and the daisies that were native to L’Manburg. The boy forcefully pushed down all thoughts of dark rooms and harsh words and he breathed in the familiar smell of his brother. All too soon, the ghost floated back away from him.

“You’ve been gone for so long! Where’d you go?” Tommy traded looks with the other three around the table, though mainly Technoblade and Phil since they had been there when Tommy said goodbye to Wilbur - Ghostbur, whatever. He remembered how poor Ghostbur’s memory had been since he died - either by choice or his mind keeping him in the dark - so Tommy wasn’t overly confused. But that didn’t stop the bitterness from coursing through him.

Apparently it was too much to ask that his brother remembered their last interaction.

“Here and there, Ghostbur,” He replied cryptically. Ghostbur would forget about this conversation the moment they left most likely.

“I brought a friend!” The ghost clapped, excitement coating his movements as he dragged Tommy through the walkway - Tommy had to lurch out of the grip when Ghostbur phased through the door, barely missing a bloody nose - and the others followed behind. In the snow was a blue ram. Certainly not something you saw everyday, but there it was. “This is Friend!”

Ghostbur snuggled into the ram’s wool as he introduced the apparent name of the animal. All things considered, the ram had a bad case of resting bitch face. It grunted at all three of them before turning its sights back on the snow, probably trying to look for grass to graze. Huge horns curl around it’s head, the appendages were a dark, heavy brown and indented. They brought up flashes of the last time Tommy had seen horns like them - a man, a tyrant, clutching his chest as the crowd watched on until his final breaths.

“That’s great, Ghostbur,” Technoblade said in a tone that meant it was definitely not fine. Their brother, of course, did not recognize the sarcasm for what it was and beamed happily at their small group. “Did you need something else?”

The ghost was silent for a few moments, no doubt raking through his fogged mind to try and remember. “Nope!”

Techno sighed heavily and Tommy was tempted to laugh at his brother. “Fantastic,” he uttered before they shuffled back into the warmth of the cottage.

_“You thought you could run away from me?”_

Tommy missed the last step of the porch, he knees hurtled against the wood and collided painfully. “Fuck,” he moaned, pressing his hands to stop himself from falling completely over. This couldn’t be happening. He and Dream don’t even have a strong enough bond to be able to whisper to each other, how was he getting through?

_“I could’ve made this easier for you,”_ Dream’s mocking words seeped through his mind. Where Ranboo’s were kind and comforting and Clara’s felt like honey and clouds, Dream’s presence scrambled his thoughts. Pain lanced through the bond at the force. _“I would’ve spared your family. You’re friends. But you had to go and make things worse for yourself.”_

_“We both know that's a goddamn lie. Get out of my fucking head,"_ Tommy hissed, words bleeding from his mind and mouth as he struggled to keep a hold on reality. There was a reason whispering needed a strong bond. The magics surrounding the telepathy might be old, but they were simple enough. If someone were to push past the walls of another they weren’t connected with, the pain could tear their mind apart.

Of course, Dream didn’t care about leaving Tommy’s mind intact.

Outside of his body - his mind trying to process the intrusion and the new presence all at once - Tommy could feel his family around him, worried tones and static chitters reaching through the haze.

_“Oh Tommy,”_ the Admin’s voice was condescending, no indicator of sharing Tommy’s sudden pain. _“So weak and useless that you can’t even keep me out of your own mind. How does it feel being so pathetic?”_

Tommy seethed. _“I’ll rip your fucking intestines out and eat them, you motherfucker. Leave. Me. Alone.”_

There was a bone-chilling laugh and he was plunged into black and sprawling purple. Of harsh, uneven stones and the horrifying flaps of wings. Acid burning through his skin and nothingness wrapping around him as he fell and fell and fell. He had tried so hard to get rid of those memories, to stop the debilitating fear that clung to the deepest part of brain. Tommy sat through hours of meditation exercises with Jordan to get through the trauma of fighting the Ender dragon. He had thought he had dealt with the deep, instinctual fear of almost dying again and again of the monster. Evidently, that was not the case with how easily he was thrown back into that unholy realm. It was evident from the crawling sensation he would get every time he passed by Edward, of his harsh avoidance of anything purple.

He cursed Dream for possessing the power to send him hurtling back months of self-guided therapy.

_“I’m going to enjoy killing you for the last time.”_

_“Catch me if you can, bitch.”_

And Dream’s presence was retracted from his mind just as quickly as he had surfaced, the pain easing until he was left with a deep, pulsing headache and his bones felt like lead.

“Fuck me,” Tommy groaned out, awarance slowly bleeding back into focus. Burning red eyes were latched onto his, quickly followed by the forest green of his father’s. “We just ran out of time.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a bit of a filler chapter, I know, but the setup and information is needed for the next part, which will be the last. I don't know when that part will be out, but hopefully in the next two weeks! Thanks for sticking with this series so far, I hope the ending is worth the wait!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are appreciated and I love you all! Stay safe! <3 [twitter](https://twitter.com/cracklesnapple1)


End file.
